


Take Delight in the Gruesome and Grim

by musicalgirl4474



Series: Psychology terms are Great Batfamily Prompts [13]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bruce Wayne's A+ Parenting, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Jason Todd is Robin, Jason is Alfred's Helper, Jason is an angry boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 14:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18284051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicalgirl4474/pseuds/musicalgirl4474
Summary: Deindividuation- Loss of self-awareness and self-restraint in group situations that foster arousal and anonymity.Jason is not allowed on patrol, so of COURSE someone gets hurt while he's still stuck in the manor." In his first week as Robin, Jason had been sent back to the batcave as soon as Batman caught a whiff of one of the big baddies being out and about. Which was annoying as hell. "





	Take Delight in the Gruesome and Grim

Masked, nameless henchmen are the most dangerous, especially in a large group. More dangerous than the thugs, which makes no sense. Except, you could usually see a thug’s face, and if they had a partner, you inevitably learned their names. In his first week as Robin, Jason had been sent back to the batcave as soon as Batman caught a whiff of one of the big baddies being out and about. Which was annoying as hell. Alfred said that it was for his own good, but Jason didn’t believe him.

“He needs someone to watch his back, at least!” he burst out when he’d had enough. “Take care of the goons . . . that’s what I’m supposed to do, right? It’s what he trains me for.”

“The Batman is still training you, Master Jason. It is up to him to decide when you are ready.”

“But they’re just goons, Alfred! I’d let him take on the big guy!” The butler raised an eyebrow at him, and Jason crossed his arms. “I would,” he sulked as he stalked up the stairs and out of the Cave.

Two hours later, Jason was roused from his sleep by Alfred shaking his shoulder. “I require your assistance in the medbay, master Jason,” the man said before walking briskly out the door.

“I knew it!” Jason said loudly as he descended the stairs into the cave, bare feet slapping against stone. “I knew you’d get hurt without me th-” but when he rounded the curtain separating the medbay from the rest of the cave, it wasn’t Batman on the cot. “Nightwing! What happened to him!?” Nightwing’s face was pale, blood mating his black hair and a gash across his cheek. The front of his black and blue costume was soaked in dark liquid.

“Get the bandages, Jason. Now!”

Since he knew that the answer to his question would be less than forthcoming at this time, Jason leapt to obey his mentor. There was no talking for a while save for orders barked by Alfred and then Leslie when she arrived and shooed Bruce out of the way with a quick “You take up more room than the boy and he can fetch just fine.” It took time for the two medical personnel to hook Nightwing up to all of the machines, but once Jason understood what story they told, he was giving Batman regular updates. He flatlined once, and Jason got a crash course in using defibrillator paddles as Alfred took over keeping Bruce from barging in in a panic.

Eventually, as Nightwing stabilized, Jason was shooed away too. He had school in a couple hours, but as the adrenaline left his limbs like jelly, Bruce called in to the school and informed them that ‘family business’ needed to be taken care of.

“What happened,” Jason demanded angrily as Bruce ended the call and sat at the chair in his office, back straight as the sun began to lighten the horizon. “Why didn’t you let me come? This wouldn’t have happened if-”

“It would have been worse,” was Bruce’s terse answer.

“I thought you and Dick weren’t talking.”

“He was a hostage.” Bruce’s lips thinned, pressed together to show his displeasure. “Apparently Joker has people in Bludhaven now.”

“But why Nightwing? Joker can’t know that he was Robin, can he?”

“It wouldn’t take a genius, many of his moves as Nightwing were utilized while he was still Robin, and as a general rule, you should assume that Joker knows more than he should.”

“So,” Jason continued, getting the conversation back on track. “Next time, you’ll let-”

“Not until you’ve had more training.”

“Oh come on!” Jason growled, clenching his hands into fists at his side. “What’s the point of all of the training if you don’t let me help? I can take care of myself, you know. I did it for years before you took pity on a street rat.”

“Pity?” Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow. “Pity, no. I was impressed with you.”

“I-” But Jason didn’t know how to respond to that. He never did, the few times Bruce told him he did a good job. Well, he’d only been living here for two weeks, maybe he’d be used to it eventually. “Why won’t you let me help you? The goons are no different from the thugs you let me take down.”

“Do you know what those particular goons did to Nightwing?”

“He was shot in the left shoulder and right foot, and multiple lacerations as well as severe bruising caused by broken ribs, one of which punctured his skin,” Jason said automatically. “Why?”

“Do you think it took more than the gunshot wounds to incapacitate him?”

“Judging by the placement of the shots and the amount of blood loss and pain that would happen in a short amount of time, probably not,” Jason said slowly, wondering if he maybe knew where Bruce was going with this.

“A thug would leave it at the gun wounds and simply tie him up,” Bruce said, leaning forward with his elbows on his desk, fingers steepled in front of him. “These goons roughed him up afterwards, likely while he was unconscious. It is very possible Joker ordered them to do so, or that they joined with Joker because they have a personal grudge against vigilantes. But there is another possibility.” He paused for a moment, and Jason shifted his weight from foot to foot impatiently. “Most of the thugs we take down are unique in some way, we can identify particular characteristics. But the goons of the Joker and Scarecrow and the like are often costumed well enough that it fosters anonymity.”

“And anonymity fosters anarchy?”

“Something like that,” Bruce allowed with a tired smile. “It allows for a person to commit heinous crimes without thought of retribution. It’s why Harley Quinn wears her face makeup, originally it was to preserve her identity.”

“But it didn’t work, ‘cause you’re a detective.”

“I had personally met her civilian identity a few times over the years. But outing her didn’t make her stop with the makeup. She wasn’t a bad person. In fact, she was a relationship therapist. I believe that the anonymity helps her ignore her conscious.”

“Is it the same with the villains? Like Joker?”

“For some of them. Not Joker, but for some of the others, yes. It’s what makes some of them so dangerous.”

“Hm.” Then Jason turned to go, eyes itching for sleep.

“Jason. I meant what I said. You’re not coming with me until I’m convinced you’re trained enough.”

“Sure, old man,” Jason said, because he had no qualms about lying.

His kind-of-older brother was down in the cave hooked up to all kinds of machines. And masks fostered anonymity just as well as face-paint.


End file.
